


Gunboat Diplomacy

by Bibliodragon



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Infinity Week, Interspecies Awkwardness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26610814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliodragon/pseuds/Bibliodragon
Summary: "Oh, but it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it. They’d been at war with the Sangheili for almost thirty years, billions dead, countless homes destroyed, and now they were expected to turn around and play nice? She’d pointed all this out when the idea was first proposed, because it was her job to be the bad guy in those situations; her concerns had been ‘noted’ and then she was told she had to deal with it.Really, it was a miracle it had taken as long as a month for any sort of incident, and a relatively minor scuffle at that. Of course, there was still time for it all to blow up in their faces."Sarah Palmer and interspecies diplomacy.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Gunboat Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> For Infinity Week Day 3 Prompt Red

Ten years ago, hell five years, two even, if someone had come up to Sarah Palmer and told her she would be where she was now, she would have laughed in their face. Then possibly recommended they retake their psych eval. Ten years ago, her job was easy: kill as many Covies as you can for as long as you can before they get you. Simple. Efficient. Hell, she could even remember roughly where she was ten years ago: covered in red and purple, assault rifle in hand and the stink of smoke and salt in her nostrils. She had been good at it. Only problem being it turned out she was too good at it. Because now she was still alive to deal with…this!

Spartan Olympia Vale, local Sangheili expert and looking far too young (and did that mean she was getting old?) was waiting for her at the entrance to the corridor which led to what had quickly become unofficially known as ‘H Deck.’ “Commander.”

“Spartan. You’ve got as long as it takes to walk this hallway to give me the sitrep.” The soft tap of her undersuit’s boots marked each pissed off step. No Mjolnir - something blah blah show of trust. That’s fine, not that she never faced them down without it before. But she missed her assault rifle.

Vale fell into step beside her. “At approximately 1400 in the Memorial Park, there was a…disagreement between Spartan Turnbull and one of the Swords, about who bumped into whom. It…escalated from there, ma’am.”

“Of course it did.” She really wanted to rub her temples, but instead she just stared straight ahead. “Look, you don’t need to play the diplomat with me. Roland showed me the footage from surveillance cams.” And oh, but it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it. They’d been at war with the Sangheili for almost thirty years, billions dead, countless homes destroyed, and now they were expected to turn around and play nice? She’d pointed all this out when the idea was first proposed, because it was her job to be the bad guy in those situations; her concerns had been ‘noted’ and then she was told she had to deal with it. 

Really, it was a miracle it had taken as long as a month for any sort of incident, and a relatively minor scuffle at that. Of course, there was still time for it all to blow up in their faces. 

She looked at Vale. She still didn’t quite know what to make of her yet. Far too damn young to have a file like that, and a little too much ONI for her tastes, but her Wargames scores implied that her previous superiors weren’t just blowing smoke. “So, you’re the Sangheili expert, how likely is this going to escalate?” 

“The…incident. Fight, I mean,” Vale corrected on Palmer’s glare. “Both were with others who intervened before things got too extreme.” And luckily both sides had kept their heads enough to keep from breaking out into a riot, but it was a close call. “But Spartan Turnbull drew blood in front of his peers, so that’s going to be a point of contention.”

“Fantastic.” At least with Turnbull she could set her on two hundred laps of the ship to blow off some steam, but here it would get all _political._ She did not sign up to act as nursemaid to a bunch of aliens.

Commander Rol ‘Merum was waiting patiently for them. Behind him the one who had been involved in the ‘altercation’ was muttering angrily, but ‘Merum was a point of calm in a hurricane. He’d been picked out to command a compliment of hot-blooded soldiers surrounded by former enemies while severely outnumbered, and in the past month Palmer had grudgingly conceded she could see the wisdom of the Arbiter’s choice. 

If anything was going to convince her life had become insanity, it was the sight of the two Sangheili standing in a room which, despite best efforts, was still full of slightly too small furniture for them. Both were dressed in the red-gold robes she had come to assume was their casual wear. No weapons or armour, though a curved knife lay flat on the table to the side. It gleamed silver in the artificial light. Vale started slightly on seeing it, so that couldn’t be good. 

“Commander.” Even after this past month, she still had to fight the urge to put her hand to the non-existent gun at her hip (again, show of trust and all that crap). Instead, she put her hands behind her back and gave a nod. 

“Commander.” ‘Merum returned the gesture. Just two commanders exchanging pleasantries. Nothing unusual about that. She could feel Vale behind her mirror her stance. Behind ‘Merum the other Sangheili twitched as if going to take a step forward. The Commander gave a snap of his jaws and he pulled himself to a halt, but with a distinctly sulky air. Palmer recognised him as one of the younger soldiers. 

Fantastic.

“You’ve heard about the incident from your warrior, of course?”

“I’ve heard her side of it, yes.” And the security footage, which was damn inconclusive in assigning blame. But she wasn’t going to admit that. “So now I want to hear yours.” She crossed her arms and waited.

‘Merum tilted his head ever so slightly as he looked down at her, then turned and nodded the younger one forward.

He was bigger than ‘Merum, lighter in hide and lacking in scars except for the patch of still wet purple on his upper mandible. He strode forward and glared down at her. Getting right up in her space.

Her right hand itched.

“Your warrior attacked me, without reason or honour. That is what happened.” She could practically see every single gleaming tooth in his jaws. He snapped them shut with a huff, inches from her face. But she never backed down in the past, so she wasn’t going to do so now.

“Really? Because I have a Spartan down on S-Deck who says otherwise.” Currently doing laps of S-Deck, but they don’t need to know that. “And the security footage of the…incident.” 

“Ha! Then you have seen that she was the one who struck the first blow!”

Yes she had seen that, damn him. But… “I also saw you bumping into her first, and then you got to talking. Unfortunately the security cams didn’t pick up what was said-” an oversight she had already been on to Roland about. What was the point of being on a ship with ONI up its ass without getting the benefits? -“it certainly looked _loud.”_

“Pah!” She could feel the breath of the Sangheili’s exhale against her face. “That was merely an accident. Besides, she could have avoided it. Instead she chose to draw blood! I am not the one who escalated it! But I will finish it! Let us settle this like warriors!”

“Hey! Discipline of my Spartans is down to me, not you, so step back!” Oh, she could emphasise with Turnbull so much right at that moment. It would be oh so easy to just haul off and smack him in that split mouth. Even without armour. Unfortunately, all she had at her disposal was her glare, and so she stared him down. Or up, technically. 

She could hear Vale behind her, just a tiny scuff of her foot against the deck as she shifted her weight, ready to move. Out of focus and to her left, she could _feel_ ‘Merum’s unblinking gaze turn slowly from his soldier to her and back again. She got the impression he was judging the both of them.

After one long second the Sangheili gave another snort and pulled himself to his full height, then took a step back, giving her some breathing room. ‘Merum gave a grunt and a flick of his head, and the other stepped back further and returned to his place just behind him once again, but still glowering away.

She slowly let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. How the hell was she supposed to deal with this? She wasn’t a diplomat, she was a soldier; she couldn’t do the doublespeak snake talk. Her job was to shoot things, or if lacking in ammo, punch things.

Well, since her bosses had put her there, they were just going to have to deal with her doing things her way. “We are just two years out from being at each other’s throats and the extinction of the human race; tensions are going to come to a head. We are just going to have to learn how to suck it up and deal with that!” She sighed. “Look, Spartan Turnbull says she did not intend to draw blood. Just as I am sure you did not intend to bump into her. You want to fight it out, fight it out in the Wargames. But not until you’ve both cooled your heads! Does that sound suitable to you?”

“This can’t be solved by a game; this is a matter of honour! It can only be solved with blood! I told that Demon, and now I’m telling you! This matter will not be solved until that blade has blood in return for mine spilled!” 

*

“He was drunk.” Vale said once they were in the corridor. 

“Yeah, I kind of noticed that when he got in my face.” So even hinge-head grunts could find a way to make booze in hidden corners. Perhaps they weren’t all that different from humans after all.

“That was also why ‘Merum agreed to this. He was putting him in his place, and letting you do it for him. 'Trokaik will no doubt feel a lot of regret and embarrassment about this when he sobers up.”

“Hmm” 

“And ‘Merum was testing you at the same time.”

“Figured that one out, also.” Her hand throbbed with her heartbeat. She kept her fist clenched, but was aware of drops of red left in her wake. Facilities always got pissy about that occupational hazard. Likely Roland had sent the cleaning request, and they were already getting out the complaint template. “Well, at least we got out of that without war breaking out again, so that’s one thing at least. Inter-species diplomacy is not my specialty. Can never tell if you’ve ended up acting out the ancient gesture for insulting their mothers when you go to blow your nose.”

Vale coughed. “Yes, I mean, no, luckily that didn’t happen. And that thing with the blade…that won’t mean anything. He was drunk and being an idiot. He probably won’t even remember that.” 

“Why do I get the feeling you are leaving something out?” But when Vale continued to look purposely straight ahead, Palmer just rolled her eyes. “Eh, screw it, as long as I didn’t end up setting up a lifelong blood feud I don’t care.”

“No. You definitely did not do that. But the next Wargames match should be interesting, anyway.”

*

Five years ago, if someone had told Olympia Vale she would be where she was now, she would have considered it hilarious. But having to try and gently let down a hungover Sangheili warrior by explaining that no, the Commander did not mean to proposition him when she grabbed a hold of the knife and gave it back to him streaked with red (shoved it under his nose, really, while calling him an idiot), which then led on to a long and involved conversation about what human courtship rituals involved, well that was something she had never thought would come under her remit.

At least Vel took it well. If somewhat disappointed. And surprisingly interested in human romantic gestures. 

That probably didn’t mean anything.


End file.
